Love song for a vampire

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master / fledgling In most vampire media, the relationship between maker and fledglings is many things: parental, sibling, an apprenticeship, even antagonistic. Just as often, there's a romantic undertone, as well. For what could connect anyone more than the sharing of blood, of the dark gift? Comment with your character, preferences, etc. Reply to others. Thread. Use the prompts, or not. † UNDEFINED → The nature of your bond is complex and unclear to outsiders. Perhaps even to both of you, as well. † DYSFUNCTIONAL → There's a lot of bad blood between you, yet you can't hate each other fully. † FORBIDDEN → Any sort of relationship beyond the vampiric-familial would be frowned upon by both human society and the underworld. † LOVERS → Why not? No one else will understand you like they do, and you probably won't have to worry about outliving them.

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SPREZZATURA VAUX | OC

[velluminous]

Re: SPREZZATURA VAUX | OC

[warpweft]

[Click. Clack.]

[Click. Clack.]

[Click. Clack.]

[The noise repeats itself as it has been repeating itself for...hours, now? Well. It isn't as if she has a deficiency of time anymore. She can do whatever she wants, wherever she wants, for as long as she wants, so who cares if she holes herself up in some dark corner and fritters that time away making a pointless, repetitive noise? The noise in question is coming from something in her hand. A kitschy little compact. She's opening and closing it over and over again.

More to the point, she's opening it, staring at it long enough to confirm, no, your reflection isn't showing up this time either, then closing it. Then, shortly after, she's repeating the whole thing.

She's been doing it for a while at this point. Again, she has all the time in the world, so why not. Or at least, she would, if her seemingly all-consuming need to stare at an empty mirror wasn't making her neglect one thing. A hand slowly comes up over her stomach. A wince covers her face as her stomach angrily growls at her. The pained expression is replaced with stubborn denial as she turns her attention away from the emptiness in her belly back to the mirror.]

[It takes a truly herculean, or some would say, very stupid amount of effort for a fledgling to ignore her appetite for this long. And yet.]

[Click. Clack.]

[Click. Clack.]

[Click. Clack.]

[velluminous]

[ click. clack. click. clack. Sprezzatura's nails drum on the table in like time, and they have been for... hours, now. her presence in the room is otherwise silent, and shadowed, and oppressive—and she does not speak.

she has not bothered to change clothes, nor to wash her face, and so her lips are still dyed red, and there is an arterial spray down the front of her frilly ivory blouse. remnants; fragments of the monster that emerged from the woman, leading to the young woman huddled away in a dark corner.

finally, hearing the growling of her stomach, Sprezzatura's brow ticks. ]

You cannot ignore forever.

[warpweft]

[She lets out a huff and half-turns her head back, but doesn't actually look. The first time she's actually acknowledged the presence behind her in, how many hours? The dried red on Sprezzatura's blouse matches the same on the left side of Nessa's neck and, well, all the way down the left side of her person.

Click.

Eyes still locked on the absence of a reflection in her mirror, she finally speaks.]

Is that a challenge or an order, Master?

[She's definitely not going to be convinced to call her "Miss Vaux" anymore.]

[velluminous]

[ and no more will Sprezzatura demand it; their relationship has been fundamentally altered by the monster in her. it would do well not to play coy anymore. still... a very small, smothered voice in the core of her cries out, especially now, with her lips still stained.

she cuts a heavy-lashed glance Nessa's way, but... no. she isn't looking. ]

Advice.

[ a sternness is there—but let's be honest. there always has been. ]

But this can be negotiable.

[warpweft]

["It's a bit late for negotiations, isn't it?" she wants to hiss out, but doesn't as she stares down at that empty mirror for a couple more minutes. She similarly fails to keep the curiosity out of her tone, when she speaks,]

....negotiable, how?

[Because, all things being made equal, the main thing that's kept her parked there like a statue for the last however many hours is that she would prefer not to punch her newly sharpened teeth into some poor shmuck's throat if she can avoid it.]

[velluminous]

[ there is only so long you can avoid it. rising to her feet, now, her footfalls nearly silent yet audible in the dark, hidden room. she comes to stand in front of Nessa, then crouches. ]

I bring someone back. Empty their veins. You are not withering on my watch, girl.

[warpweft]

I'm not killing somebody, on your watch or on anybody else's.

[She turns away, still seated, just making sure her back is to Sprezzatura once again. That comes out quick, flat and resolute. This part, to her, isn't negotiable, it would seem.]

Go find a cow or something.

[velluminous]

[ her temper flares; it lives close enough beneath the surface even on a good day, and this is a very, very bad one. Nessa will feel her cold hand come down on her turned shoulder, and while she doesn't turn her back, she does grip somewhat tightly. ]

You need to drink. It will not get better. What am I going to do with you—let you perish for good?

[warpweft]

[Nessa's shoulder twitches - she wants to pull away, jerk her arm away from Sprezzatura's hand with as much piss and vinegar and disdain as she can muster, but it just doesn't happen. It leans forward slightly, then stops, allowing the hand to remain there.

Even cold as the grave, pulling away from that touch is easier said than done.]

Then I'll have to drink without harming someone.

Or you'll have to force me.

/2

[velluminous]

[ this girl ]

[velluminous]

[ contrary to her first instinct, she presses close—right up against Nessa's back, this preternatural and unearthly presence. almost oppressive. a sense of nothingness more than a sense of "personhood" behind her. Sprezzatura is a void now both inside and out.

but her lips trend close to Nessa's ear, and her arms wind around her from behind. ]

Do not make me do this. I will bring back some of what I take on my hunt, and you will drink it.

[warpweft]

[It takes all of her effort to not lean back into that grip, even as cold and empty as it is now. There was a time when those arms wrapped around her brought Nessa unimaginable warmth - the memory of that and the cold contrast of it to this moment is the only thing that keeps her from falling backwards. But just the same, she doesn't pull away from it. She just remains still. Letting the arms hang around her, without acknowledging them.]

Unless you're hunting a cow, that's going to be a problem.

[Can vampires even drink cow blood? Probably not. But she's fixated on it.]

[velluminous]

[ the love for her student hasn't died. only the girl. ]

Girl, you are not listening to me. You cannot survive off beast.

[warpweft]

[She grumbles and crosses her arms.]

I could before just fine.

[velluminous]

Before, you were not like me.

[warpweft]

... ...

[The compact slips out of her grip and lands on the floor. Her hands make fists.]

Before, I would've been satisfied to live a life perfectly devoted to you, in whatever form you found yourself.

I was already happy to call you my Master.

/2

[velluminous]

[ this silence is a long one. her bony arms withdraw, and that oppressive weight of presence behind Nessa pulls back just a little. there's an accusation there, thinly-veiled. she can feel it like a knife poised against her skin. ]

[velluminous]

I did not want to be your "master"! I wanted to be your guide, your protector— [ her voice cuts short, as sharp in its cessation as otherwise. she certainly didn't manage to protect a damn thing, did she? ] I lost control. Do you think I congratulate myself for it? And now what?! I fail you second time?

/2

[warpweft]

Well, I guess we both stink at threading the emotional needle, then.

[warpweft]

.....the former you wasn't so quick to give up. Or so...

Incurious.

[That last word comes out with a particular amount of disdain. Disappointment. Like of all the things she could fathom Sprezzatura being, that's the last one she would think of. Something she considers worse than being a monster.]

[velluminous]

[ she is up and on her feet in an instant, blazing, her voice raised in a way that has never happened with Nessa before. ]

Former me? Former "me" died—long ago! Oh, very easy for you to play sanctimonious now.

[warpweft]

Oh, don't give me that bullshit!

[She's up too and she's whirling around and finally making eye contact with Sprezzatura. And -- oop, she's shoving her.]

I know you love feeling sorry for yourself almost as much as I do, but not even you can drink yourself so stupid on self-pity as to say something like that and actually believe it! You stared down a monster trying to rip you apart from the inside and you made the monster blink! But you expect me to believe your heart running cold was enough to kill you?! You expect me to believe you're content to just sit here and say "ah, well, my only choice is to drink from other people, so that's that, then that's that!" What kind of sick prank are you trying to play on me, finally giving me what I wanted after years of, [Terrible accent:] "oh no lapochka, I simply can't let you follow me down this path!", just to immediately bin all of the qualities that made me want to spend the rest of my life by your side in the first place?!

[She shoves her again. The hunger is really getting to her by this point.]

You're Sprezzatura Fucking Vaux! Start acting like it!

[velluminous]

[ she's shoved. and she's shoved. and she snaps. there's a sharp, hard sound as she scuffs her heels into the floor and whirls away, nostrils flaring.

Mammon, she hates to hear this. she hates it. the absolute devotion that she had always wanted, but never dared to want—and it's like this. it comes out like this. from the girl she couldn't save and now the girl she was too weak not to kill. ]

You think I am content?! Now I am not merely possessed of some monster—monster is me! And it is you. Am I not allowed even one moment of despair? I have to play strong for you always, now?